


Payoff

by Calliopinot



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abduction, Beating, Blood, Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Bondage, Dominance, Forced Submission, Kidnapping, Knives, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Obsession, Oral Sex, POV Second Person, Rough Oral Sex, Submission, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 16:40:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18102383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calliopinot/pseuds/Calliopinot
Summary: He’s tall and slender. Hair cascades down his back. Beautiful. Shinier than yours. You love him. You hate him. You decide he needs to come back down to earth. You take him.





	Payoff

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write a "whump" fic, with a payoff at the end. Please enjoy.

He’s tall and slender. Hair cascades down his back. Beautiful. Shinier than yours. You love him. You hate him. You decide he needs to come back down to earth. You take him.

He doesn’t know who you are. He does, of course. Of course he does. He’s just saying that to torment you. It will be the last thing he says for a while.

You choose the silk. It’s softer than nylon, less crude than tape. You will be the one touching the coverings on his face, tightening the bonds, so you should be the one to enjoy the feel of them under your practiced fingers. He should enjoy this, too. He will enjoy this. Eventually.

The gash on his forehead is unpleasant. You didn’t want to break the skin, but he didn’t want to go down with one blow. Maybe you regret it. Maybe you should treat it.

He comes to with your tongue in the cut. He can’t protest; you’ve seen to that. So you have your coppery fill, run your hands through those gleaming locks, tip up his blindfold.

“You will give to me everything that I want.”

His eyes follow the path of your tongue around your lips, smeared with his blood. He is a fast learner. You reward him with a backhand to the sharp plane of his cheekbone. Most of it catches the nose. More blood.

You realise you only know what you’re doing in theory. In fantasy. All the implements of torture you survey are virgins, unused, seen only on the screens of your cinema and your imagination. The part of you that squirms with delight is glad that their first contact with human flesh will be that of this man. The part of you that squirms with fear is worried that their first contact with human flesh will be that of this man.

He whimpers. You feel it in your gut, lower than your gut, somewhere in between your kidneys. It’s a lovely sound, and the only one he can make. The one only he can make. You want him to make it again. You will see to it he makes it again.

You choose a tool at random. It makes no difference, but you check for posterity whether it’s a bludgeon or a blade. The latter. More blood. But precise. Controlled. You sit before him, more comfortable, surely, in your leather chair than he in his seatless squat. And you press the sharp edge gently to his chest, just beneath the right areola. It’s such a clean line, almost a road map.

Another whimper. You have to fight to keep one of your own safely tucked away in your throat. You can’t let him know, yet. He can’t know why. Not the real reason. He has to think this is his fault, he’s at fault, he’s done something to deserve this. You can still enjoy it. You will still enjoy it. He doesn’t have to know.

The blade travels around the dusky skin under his nipple. You don’t need to push hard; it’s so efficient. A neat, red semicircle. You smile back at it. But it seems he’s stopped cooperating. Stopped making noise. His jaw is locked around the gag. Saliva drips from his lips and chin along with perspiration and tears. He’s shaking. Already.

Another unexpected streak of red. You’ve slashed him from shoulder to sternum. This golden Adonis is a god, you are but a lowly serf, and you slash and you strike until you’re on equal footing. You are angry. He has earned this. He  _deserves_  this.

You slice the blindfold away from his face before replacing the blade in its kit. A chuckle escapes your throat, redoubled at the wary warble it evinces from his. This policeman’s truncheon looks almost silly next to the ornate Gothic knives and whips and needles. But it will do. Indeed it will do.

The first blow lands at the junction of arm and chest, and you revel in the sound of the joint popping out of its socket. You catch yourself staring at the golden tuft of hair there, so downy soft. So beautiful, the graceful wings pulled taut above his head, one just a bit longer than the other, now.

The tears flow freely from his eyes, blinking against the harsh light. His perfect blue eyes. Azure, a poet would call them. And a poet would take the time, for him. You hate him so much.

The sounds no longer flow freely from his throat. Instead, a sort of gurgling. You are disappointed. His gagged whining was the perfect accompaniment to the rise and fall of your closed fist, to the heart beating in your ears. This is simply gross. It does nothing for your arousal.

You flick the gag out of his mouth. Help yourself to a glass of ice water, hard earned. Tip it to his bottom lip, swim in the pupils that regard you so gratefully, and take it away before the first drop can reach his eager tongue. You have something else in mind for that eager tongue.

“Please…” While your back is turned.

“Please what?” While he struggles fruitlessly against his bonds.

“Please… sir?”

You can barely contain your glee, so you don’t. Bending down, laughing full in his face, it’s the happiest you’ve been in months. Years. He’s offered to you the one thing you were prepared to beat out of him, no matter how long it took.

Respect.

Blood smears into his sweat-dampened hair as you gather it back off his forehead.

“Please what.”

He grimaces, and you notice you’ve knocked out a tooth. That must explain the gurgling. What a shame.

“Please… sir. I-” There are the tears again, the destroyed visage, the absolute beauty. Still gorgeous, despite the broken nose, the red and black and blue. “I don’t want to die.”

You rise to your full, modest height. So much less than his… but that doesn’t matter now. Tighten your grip at the back of his skull and let your intentions manifest.

“I’m sure you don’t. But remember.” You unbutton. You unzip. “You are going to give me everything  _I_  want.”

An elbow to the jaw ensures compliance, forestalls betrayal. You wish you could kiss those pouty lips, split and stained with blood. But you settle for rubbing your rigid phallus against them, teasing yourself before satisfying yourself. It’s been so long, after all.

Patience was never one of your virtues, though, was it? You sheathe yourself completely in the wet warmth of his mouth and snap your hips. This is it. This moment. The attention. The respect. The  _love_. You see it in his eyes, watering up at you, you’re sure you do, it’s absolutely there.

He chokes on your orgasm, but you don’t let up until you’re done.

There’s shame, now. In the way his head lolls to the side, mind struggling to keep hold of the last vestiges of pride and consciousness. In his shoulders, pulled taut yet racking with sobs. In the haphazard mess you’ve made of his torso. In how much pleasure you’ve taken in this entire affair.

In how you break.

You unwind the rope that suspends him, gradually, until his backside hits the polished concrete. His hands will remain bound, his feet will remain bound, his mouth will remain gagged. He will remain.

 

You don’t know how long you’ll keep him. How long you’ll get to keep him. All the stories you love to read have you convinced he’ll fall in love, true love, over time. But you know how this works, in real life. You’re lucky, in many ways, that he’s not a pretty girl gone missing. But the time will come. You’ll break, again. He’ll get bold. The time will come for him to leave, one way or another.

For now, he’s yours, and only yours. And now is all that really matters.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like please comment! 🤗 This is my first original work so I'd love to hear some thoughts.


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